It’s a ballsy move to look in the face of cancer and say, “I’m gonna kick your ass!” Yet Dena Mendes did just that, and now she’ll tell you how to do the same thing!

This book is a crash course in learning how to be your own advocate. Empower yourself by using your intuition and newfound knowledge, and you’ll come through this difficult yet amazing health-awakening opportunity with flying colors. With this step-by-step guide at your side, your journey will turn into a beautiful dance. As Dena promises, “You’ll get to turn yourself inside out and become someone new. I guarantee that this is the best trip you’ll ever take!”

This guide is a life preserver that has been created to support you on your journey back to perfect health...

EXCERPT

Introduction: The Rabbit Hole

“I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle!”
— From Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll

Whenever I’m asked to describe what being diagnosed with cancer is like, what instantly floods my mind are images of a surreal and absurdist musical being acted out on some stage. It’s impossible to expect the human brain to grasp the paralyzing devastation that comes from that single word: cancer. I liken it to Alice’s first trip down the rabbit hole, as she lost her footing and her world spun out of control. Just like Alice, I was catapulted into a bizarre misadventure that ultimately resulted in a beautiful metamorphosis.

Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I was finally having the wonderful life I’d always dreamed of after a childhood filled with abuse. The experiences I went through as a young girl were traumatic, yet I believed they were normal.

“Children should be seen and not heard” was my father’s credo, and we marched to the beat of his drum or else we paid dearly. My mother was too young and self-absorbed to be a mother. My parents’ inability to be attentive, compassionate, and loving was not their fault, as they were products of their own environment. Yet the more I craved the love and attention that I couldn’t get, the angrier and more rebellious I became. I believe I was suffering from sadness and low self-esteem, and I continued on this path for years.

I often became ill from physical and emotional abuse as well as the typical teenage poor-quality diet, made up of chemical-laden, processed foods. When I was 17, I developed a spastic colon (also known as “irritable bowel syndrome”) and colitis. During this time, I had the privilege of stumbling across my first guru, Max Vanorman, who literally saved my life. He taught me to turn the damage from my family dysfunction into a desire to learn more about mental and emotional healing—and he was the first person who ever showed me the connection between food and how we feel and function physically, mentally, and emotionally. Thanks to Max, I not only healed from my stomach issues within three weeks, I was also inspired to study natural healing in all its capacities.

I went on to attend Arizona State University, studying communications, broadcast journalism, and public health. I wanted to combine my interest in natural modalities with the ability to “share the health.” While earning my bachelor of arts degree, I worked as a research reporter and medical-news reporting assistant for NBC KPNX-TV 12 in Phoenix. Even back then, I tried to squeeze my “natural stories” in between sports and what I considered fluff—but in the late ’80s, people had never heard of fish oil or probiotics, so my stories weren’t well received.

After leaving Arizona, I moved to Chicago, where I met my husband, Steve. At first his friends and family thought I was strange, since I introduced them to natural remedies labeled with bizarre names such as “wormwood” and “bladder wrack.” Steve had two great boys from a previous marriage, August and Brice; he and I then had the first girl in the family, Paris, and soon after came our son Jet. Once I had children, I felt lucky to spend my days caring for and nurturing them. I was happy and fulfilled . . . until the first bolt of lightning hit our household in 1998.

Steve was diagnosed with bile-duct cancer, a typically terminal form of the disease. It was my first serious call to action. I quickly assembled the troops and worked around the clock to heal him. I voraciously devoured everything I could learn about cancer so I could help save my husband’s life. Due to all the medical and natural tools we were blessed with, as well as his own amazing sense of fortitude, he survived, and he’s healthy today.

Unfortunately, there was no rest for the weary. Less than two years later, a second bolt of lightning struck—and this time, it hit me. My “cancer career” began when my gynecologist suggested, “Let’s watch this mass in your breast.” I had a scar in my right breast that had formed years earlier when I accidentally slammed it in a car door (ouch), and after keeping an eye on it for some time, it became clear to him that the scar or mass in my right breast had become more round and defined.

I felt that mammograms emitted too much radiation, so I went for a thermograph, which is an imaging technique that uses infrared sensors to map differences in heat levels across your breasts. According to the report, I had no signs of cancer.

After another year of watching the mass in my breast with thermographs, I finally broke down at my gynecologist’s insistence and went for a regular mammogram with a specialist.

I got the call the following morning, and I couldn’t believe the news. This specialist, whom I didn’t even know, was hysterical as he told me I had what “looked like cancer,” and that I “must have an immediate lumpectomy or suffer the consequences.” It reminded me of the childhood story Chicken Little, when he frantically cried, “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!” (When it comes to cancer, there’s more drama than a soap opera.) After I hung up with the specialist, I called my husband in tears. I thought for sure I was dying.